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Its ... when I'm eating, knowing I sleep all alone. It's quiet now, It's louder then, I stand still like a stone. Oh woah, only from my dreams where we won't go.

I'm in metaphorical love with metaphorical stripper.

In my head when she's gone, and gone when I'm with her.

When I watch her perform her daily routine,

My head's in a mess and my insides scream.

Don't know if I should tell her or lay down low,

While she lets every last bit of it go.

Should I hold on by the ends?

Or cut the whole rope?

Her face throws me off like a mechanical bull,

But keeps me on with a magnetic pull.

A paradox of power, a double-action.

Further skews my probable factions.

Some days she's clothed, some days she's naked,

Everything's still, or everything's shaking.

When she's shaking I can hardly give her a glance.

But when she's still I feel that we have a chance.

I read her now like I read a book,

Thinking of chances lost and chances took.

Thinking of the simplicity that saves her,

Helping me in turn.

I look at her with obvious eyes,

On my hideous face that fear she'll despise.

And I enter a realm that I do not know,

Where I think and try and poignant thoughts don't go.

But I don't know yet, and will see how it goes.

While the stripper takes off all of her clothes. 

Right now I try to forget and close my eyes.

Muster my definite strength and enjoy the ride.

Author's Note

Its ... when I'm eating, knowing I sleep all alone. It's quiet now, It's louder then, I stand still like a stone. Oh woah, only from my dreams where we won't go.